Sentiment for Hair Dryers

My hair dryer is a fire hazard. I find the smallest tool; try to clean out the lint. There is no cleaning out the lint. The small things weave into me, how if I can edge out the small dust particles until the holes are clear, this hand-held miracle will be restored to full power. But we are done. I am scanning for new dryers and texting my friend who I grew up with and she is telling me the one to buy. And I am clicking buy.

Life moves relentlessly forward while we recount what does not last: dryers, dogs, a bother-in-law, a grandma, a friend, an uncle. How one minute they were here with their idiosyncrasies and then their breath slowed and fought to linger on but didn’t win. And it’s silly and stupid to talk about the hair dryer in the same line as my friend or my dog. I won’t miss the hair dryer. I’ll love the power of the new one. But shouldn’t we take a moment and applaud how I learned to slow down enough to love blow drying my youngest daughter’s hair?

Can’t we talk about the smallest tools and how they add to our days? How the vacuum cleaner gave me respite on Friday as I cleaned up the remnants of my old dog’s life? How the now-clean blanket he laid upon sits folded next to his dog bed, how it gives me pleasures to see these tools he will no longer use? How this year we retired the handmade cutting board my brother-in-law made for us? That we tossed the handmade bed frame he made for us, how it made a small thud as it joined the pile of dead trees at the recycling plant. How long it took to take the bed frame out of storage and add it to the SUV for the dump run?

We are never out of tales and they live inside our breath until we take the very last breath. My new hair dryer is being put in a box somewhere and it will soon sit in my hand as I dry my 13-year-old’s hair. I will love it for its efficiency but more so for the way it makes me notice these moments that won’t come around to greet me again. It takes 5 minutes to dry her hair. I dry it well enough.

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Nancy Schatz Alton

I used to ride the playground ponies — painted metal creature swings behind my childhood home — and dream of a book with my name on it: Nancy Schatz. Years later, I walked that same playground and young girl asked me my age. Maybe I was 19. Shocked, she asked if I was married. Nope, not yet, I laughed in reply.

Now I’m married and my body’s pretty close to being 50 years old. My first dream came true with one minor adjustment. The name on the cover of those books is “Nancy Schatz Alton.” I think it took writing these two holistic healthcare guides — The Healthy Back Book and The Healthy Knees Book — to believe I really am a writer. But I’ve been a writer before I could pencil the alphabet on the itchy lined paper in Kindergarten. It’s just who I am.

I wear many other definitions. I’m lucky enough to be a mom to a teenager and a tween. I’m a freelance writer, editor and writing teacher and coach, too. I’m a baker and a short-order cook, an off-key singer and car dancer. I’m a former long distance runner, an avid reader and a lover of color. I’m also a spy, because writers are spies, right?

This blog was born a few years ago when I finally got tired of denying myself the privilege of having a blog. I love sharing my words, and if these thoughts can help someone else, even better. As this blog has evolved, some of what I have written is part of a memoir manuscript entitled “But Still and Yet: Navigating the Learning Differences World with My Daughter.” That’s the tale of being and becoming a mother. No, it’s not the story of my first child’s birth and how I stepped into this new role, although there are many fine books about this very topic. This memoir is about learning to embrace the idea that life doesn’t always get to be easy for our offspring. If you aren’t a parent, the journey I take is the same journey all humans take during this lifetime. This memoir answers this question: how do we crack ourselves open to become our best possible selves?

Boom. Enjoy my blog. Say hello via a comment if you have can. And Welcome to Within The Words, Finding the Green within the Grey,.

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